


eight a.m. on tuesdays (throwing rocks on my bedroom window)

by erce3



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Mermista, F/M, Fluff, Latino Sea Hawk, Oh also, an absurd amount of boba, copious amounts of capitalization, its just fluff and softness. Love Them., mermista being dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 21:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16731330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erce3/pseuds/erce3
Summary: AD: PLEASE CALL ME AND MAKE SURE I GO TO MY 8 AM CLASS TUES/THURS. I WILL LITERALLY PAY YOU. 555-0923-XXXX.(in which Mermista puts out an ad for someone to wake her up & ensure she goes to her biochem class & Sea Hawk responds)





	eight a.m. on tuesdays (throwing rocks on my bedroom window)

**_AD_ ** _: PLEASE CALL ME AND MAKE SURE I GO TO MY 8 AM CLASS TUES/THURS. I WILL LITERALLY PAY YOU. 555-0923-XXXX._

 

 

 

 

So Mermista is _literally_ having the worst day of her month. Year. Life, even, if she’s really feeling dramatic, and she kind of deserves to feel dramatic. She’s missed literally enough of her _stupid,_ 8 AM biochem class that her professor emailed her. Yeah, her professor emailed her. Mermista actually maybe wants to die. Painfully.

 

Anyway, her roommate’s been really nice about it. Perfuma’s cool; Mermista will admit that. She’s the one that came up with the ad idea, anyway, because Perfuma _also_ likes to sleep in until 11 AM, and neither of them respond well to alarms. (Case in point: Perfuma sleeps through hers about as often as Mermista turns hers off, which is like, every day at this point).

  
So. Her life is out of control, and she posts this ad in like, four different common rooms in prayer, and then the absolute worst thing happens.

 

Someone responds.

 

 

 

 

**unknown number (3:14 PM):** HEY! MY NAME IS SEA HAWK AND I’M RESPONDING TO YOUR AD

**mermista (3:18 PM):** oh my god the capitals

**unknown number (3:18 PM):** IT SHOWS ENTHUSIASM

 

**unknown number (3:25 PM):** ARE YOU STILL INTERESTED

 

Mermista takes a long, suffering look at her phone. She fiddles with the little dolphin charm at the corner that she attached through the hole in the case for the camera, looks over to Perfuma passed out on her bunk, and then at the biochem binder on her desk. She sighs, and types out her response.

 

**mermista (3:26 PM):** yeah, i am

**unknown number (3:26 PM):** GREAT!!! WOULD YOU LIKE TO MEET UP TO DISCUSS DETAILS

 

She pauses. _not really,_ she types, and then deletes it, because Mermista can be bitchy, but she’s not a bitch. He’s literally helping her, even if it’s in all caps and with the sort of enthusiasm Mermista tries to avoid. Literally, his enthusiasm is like, blinding. She’s actually not going to be able to see before she makes it to biochem and doesn’t fail the class.

 

“Whatever,” she mutters aloud, and then presses call instead.

 

He picks up on the second ring. “Hellooo,” he says, sounding pleased if not slightly surprised and Mermista blinks at how pretty his voice is. _Oh,_ she thinks, and then he says, “It’s a pleasure doing business with you,” in a weird way, like he’s doing a bad impression of someone, and then her attraction dissipates into being annoyed. Mermista is literally always annoyed.

 

“So,” she drawls. “I’m Mermista.”

 

He goes silent. Like, Mermista can’t hear his breathing. And then there’s something muffled, like he put his hand over the receiver or like, the bottom of his iPhone, and he’s saying something to someone else in the room, and so Mermista rolls her eyes and continues, “I have biochem in the science building lecture hall at eight in the morning. It sucks. Uh. My dorm is in Bright Moon, first floor, room 108. Yeah. Any questions?”

 

Sea Hawk lets out a breath over the phone. “No, ma’am,” he says in a weirdly flirtatious way.

 

“Really,” says Mermista dryly. “You didn’t ask about payment.”

 

“Oh,” he says immediately, like he’d _forgotten_ about being paid? Mermista rolls her eyes. “Uh, five bucks?”

 

“What?”

 

“I just want five bucks,” he says, shrugging. “Or a boat.”

 

“A boat,” she responds slowly.

  
“Just a joke! Ha ha, just a light hearted jest!” he says nervously into the receiver. God, this guy is so fucking weird, thinks Mermista. She is _not_ acknowledging the fact she thinks it’s cute. It is not cute, she scolds herself. “Just five dollars will do,” he says again, and something in her stomach flips.

 

“Like, a morning?”

 

“In total.”

 

“Okay, first of all, what the fuck,” she says, suddenly. “Is this–? This must be a prank. Secondly, it’s ten bucks per class you get me to successfully. You’re going to want more than five dollars.”

 

“Okay!” There’s an awkward pause in which Mermista is about to hang up, until Sea Hawk takes in a breath. “Do you drink coffee in the morning?” he says, suddenly, and Mermista feels her cheeks pink.

 

“Iced coffee or, like, boba, or I _guess_ tea,” she says. Her mom used to make her green tea in the mornings, and sometimes Mermista has it when she’s missing home. Not that she misses anything. She pauses. “Is Sea Hawk even your real name?”

 

“No,” he says brightly, with no apparent intention to clarify. “What kind of boba?”

 

“Uh,” she says. “Green tea or honeydew and regular tapioca, I guess. It’s whatever.”

 

“Cool.” There’s a scratching noise across the phone like he’s writing this down. Oh my god, thinks Mermista. Is he _writing this down?_ She’s literally never been this embarrassed in her _life._ There’s another pause, as if he’s trying to decide what to say, and Mermista really considers dying. “I like milk tea,” he says finally, and she snorts.

 

“That’s so basic,” she complains, and he laughs over the phone.   


“Maybe, Princess,” he says, and her stomach literally does this thing, this flipping thing, and she’s known this guy for what, five minutes? Maybe Mermista is just really grateful that she finally found someone to fix her sleeping in problem. That _must_ be it. Skipping has really been grating on her nerves. That’s all.

 

“Well,” she says. “I’ve gotta finish my biochem homework.”

 

“Ah,” he says. “At least you’ve been doing your homework,” and then he hangs up without a goodbye. Mermista blinks at the sudden silence, opens her mouth right as the phone beeps. She lowers it and looks at it in some confusion, then clicks on his number and types in a contact name: _weirdo._ She pauses, deletes it, tries another: _boat guy._ Tries again: _morning waker upper._ Sighs, and gives up, types, _sea hawk_ and tries not to think about how he literally defies definitions.

 

“Who was that,” says Perfuma eventually, and Mermista startles.

 

“How long have you been listening?” she says, and Perfuma shrugs.

 

“Did he answer our ad?” Perfuma says, and clasps her hands together in glee. “He did, didn’t he! He answered our ad!”

 

“Maybe,” says Mermista, and gets out her notebook to actually do her homework. She is a good student, really.

 

 

 

 

Sure enough, her alarm beeps at 7:30, and Mermista groans. Like, she’s physically in pain. She can barely muster enough energy to turn off her phone and turn over, and even though some very (very, very, very) small part of her brain screams: _biochem, Mermista!_ she’s too far gone to consider it. She just wants to sleep.

 

Except. Except someone starts obnoxiously _singing_ through her door. It’s muffled, but it’s loud enough, probably, to wake up her whole fucking floor, and Mermista _does not,_ under no circumstances, want to be _that_ kid who wakes everyone up at seven thirty because she can’t handle it.

 

_“Who’s...beautiful and needs to go to class,”_ sings the mystery singer. Mermista groans. She considers getting up to tell him to shut up, and then she’s reminded of pillows and blocking out noise and how _cold_ the mornings are, and how soft her bed is. Yeah, no. Mermista’s not getting up.

 

_“It’s Mer-mist-a!”_

 

As if on cue, her phone literally starts buzzing and does. Not. Stop. This is hell, decides Mermista. She died last night and went to hell.

 

_“Who’s...wonderful and wants to drink some boba,”_ says the person outside her door, and Mermista may have her head stuffed between some pillows, but she swears he’s getting louder. How is that even possible? How _loud_ can he get? _“It’s Mer-mist-a!”_ Her phone is still buzzing. The guy is still singing.

 

Yeah, this is hell, she thinks, and presses _accept_ on her phone. “I literally hate you,” she says groggily. “Go away.”

 

“Mermista!” shouts Sea Hawk through the receiver and Mermista yanks the phone from her ear so she won’t go like, deaf. “Come on! Get up!”

 

“I would literally rather die,” she says, and presses _end call._ It takes two seconds for Sea Hawk to start calling her again and for the singing to start up again. God, her floormates must hate her. Mermista hates herself. Afternoon Mermista is a bitch, she thinks, and Sea Hawk won’t stop singing, and her phone is buzzing, and Perfuma’s still _fucking asleep,_ and so she pulls on the leggings and blue fish sweatshirt she left out for herself and opens the door.

 

Listen. Mermista is pissed, okay. She’s tired and hates biochem and this guy won’t fucking stop singing. She knows she looks like hell. Her hair is messy. She hasn’t got makeup on. She’s pretty sure she got, like, three new zits last night. She’s expecting a gasp of horror when she opens the door.

 

She doesn’t get one.

 

Instead, a cold boba, green tea, is pressed into her hand, along with a bagel – “gluten free,” says Sea Hawk, “and vegan, ‘cause I didn’t know what you can eat or what you like to eat and –” and he is blushing, and Mermista’s blushing, because she has _eyes,_ okay, and Sea Hawk? Well, Sea Hawk’s hot.

 

Like. Mermista didn’t even know she was into tall, lanky guys with perfect tanned skin and tousled hair and a fucking mustache, okay, but she’s into tall, lanky guys with perfect tanned skin and tousled hair and a fucking mustache. Even if it’s, like, seven in the morning, and he’s the one who woke her up.

 

Doesn’t change the fact she finds him annoying and weird, though.

 

Anyways. So she feels a little embarrassed that her hair is messy and she looks dead inside, especially because Sea Hawk’s got this unreadable look on his face and he’s gone completely silent, like he wasn’t expecting her to look like _that._ Which is fair. It stings a little more than in should, okay, but it’s fair. Morning Mermista isn’t hot.

 

“Thanks,” she says, and snatches the bagel. “Here’s ten bucks.”

 

She shoves a crumpled bill into the hand which previously held the bagel – Sea Hawk’s, like, frozen in place, but whatever – and walks off, and leaves him standing by her door, his mouth still open in shock.

 

 

 

 

**sea hawk (8:13 AM):** DID YOU GET TO CLASS ON TIME

**mermista (9:32 AM):** yeah, thanks

 

 

 

 

Sea Hawk tries the shanty thing again that Thursday, but Mermista’s, like, expecting it now. She can tune him out, now that she knows what’s happening, even with her phone, like, buzzing every five seconds. _“Mer-mist-a!”_ he croons outside her door, and she just turns over. Whatever, Morning Mermista thinks. She’s fucking tired, okay.

 

So it’s not working. Mermista half expects him to give up. She’s a little surprised when the singing stops, though, if not relieved. Finally. She can fucking _sleep._ Tuesday wasn’t worth it. Biochem isn’t worth it. Cute boys serenading her are definitely not worth it. She turns over, and she’s about to close her eyes, when there’s banging on her window.

 

She jolts, surprised and concerned, worried suddenly there’s like, a burglar, except when she looks there’s Sea Hawk, smiling and holding up the same kind of boba from yesterday and a bagel. “Open it,” he mouths, and Mermista’s honest to impressed, as well as pissed. She’s sure fucking awake now.

 

“What the hell,” she says, opening the window and watching him jump in.

 

“First floor perks,” he says, but in the kind of way like he’d have fucking climbed higher if she was on a different floor. She fixes his with a cold stare to mask her alarm and confusion.

 

“I’m not even dressed,” she says, motioning to her tank top and shark-patterned pajama pants. They’re dweeby, okay, but they’re super soft, and her little brother gave her them before she went to college. He has a matching pair, not that it matters. Mermista doesn’t care, at all. It’s just that they’re soft.

 

“Cute pants,” says Sea Hawk, and Mermista blushes.

 

“Whatever,” she says, drawing the blinds. “Turn around, let me get dressed.” Her outfit is basically a repeat from yesterday – leggings and an octopus sweatshirt, purple this time, with an aquarium’s logo on the back. Mermista used to work there, back when she was in high school.

 

She’s still a little embarrassed that she looks like _this_ and he looks so good, so she tucks her hair into a bun to seem a little more presentable, but it doesn’t do anything but make her look more messy, because hairs keep escaping, and she really doesn’t have any energy to make it look nice.

 

“You seem to have a lot of these,” says Sea Hawk softly, when she lets him turn around.

 

“You’ve only known me for two days.”

 

“Four,” he says, “including the phone call and Wednesday.”  
  
“I miss Wednesday,” she says, but there’s no bite behind it. “Thanks for the bagel.”

 

“You still haven’t told me what you like,” he says, “but breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

 

“Whatever,” she says again, and Sea Hawk opens the blinds to go out the way she came, and she blinks at him. “Or, like, use the door,” she says, opening her door, and he blushes, and Mermista tries her god damn best not to think about what that does to her stomach. It’s just because it’s the morning and she’s sleepy, is all.

 

She presses another bill into his hand, and this time, she adds, “I like poppy seed,” and leaves, sipping at her boba. Thank God for caffeine. She’s especially pleased she doesn’t even look back to see his expression, even though it probably would have been hilarious. Whatever.

 

 

 

 

**sea hawk (9:34 AM):** HOPE YOU MADE IT TO CLASS OK

**mermista** **(9:34 AM):** ya thanks for the caffeine. forgot to thank u yesterday

**sea hawk (9:35 AM):** :-)

 

**perfuma (11:32 AM):** im literally so mad i keep missing this guy you wont stop talking about… seems cute ;)

**mermista (11:32 AM):** perfuma youre a lesbian

**perfuma (11:33 AM):** & you’re bi! sexuality has nothing 2 do w it i have eyes, ok!

**perfuma (11:33 AM):** also i see no denial ;))))

**mermista (11:33 AM):** whatever. he literally puts noses on his smiley faces

**mermista (11:33 AM):** like who does that????

**mermista (11:33 AM):** hes so dumb

**mermista (11:33 AM):** and i DONT talk about him all the time!!!!

**perfuma (11:34 AM):** yeah ok! whatever u say ;)

**mermista (11:35 AM):** i want a new roommate

 

 

 

 

Mermista isn’t looking forward to next Tuesday. Not at all. She certainly doesn’t line out some cuter clothes and maybe even put a reminder on her phone to put on some eyeliner. She _definitely_ does not ask a giggling Perfuma if she looks better in her blue tank top or her white one. Not at all.

 

Not like it matters. Come seven on Tuesday morning, everything hurts. She reevaluates whether or not she’s in hell. She just wants to go back to sleep, seriously, and her phone won’t stop buzzing, and Sea Hawk’s trying shanties again. She can’t even remember why she likes this guy. He’s so annoying.

 

Either way. He’s still singing about the color of her eyes, and if it weren’t so god damn early, Mermista would be flattered he even remembers what her eyes looks like. She taps _accept call_ on her phone and drawls, “I hate you. I don’t deserve this,” because she’s feeling particularly persecuted.

 

_“Wake up, princess,”_ he sings into the phone and she can literally hear him singing outside and okay, she’s smiling, but she’s not happy about it. _“I have a poppy seed bagel!”_ And her phone buzzes with the reminder, too, and Mermista thinks, _I hate my life_ in a totally non-sarcastic way, and Sea Hawk starts singing again, and she still hasn’t hung up.

 

“Give me a moment,” she says, finally, and sits up.

 

It takes her a little while to get the eyeliner right – Sea Hawk calls her four times, and she affirms, four times, that she’s awake and “Getting ready, God,” because it’s literally only a five minute walk to her class, and she got up in record time, so “don’t worry”, which he affirms he won’t, and calls her again like five minutes later her.

 

She feels cute, though, when she finishes. She’s got a blue tank top and a sheer short sleeve shirt over it decorated with shells, and a pair of jeans that make her thighs look really good, and when she opens the door, she enjoys the way Sea Hawk visibly gulps. “Good morning,” she says, deadpan as always.

 

“You look…” he says, and for once he’s lost for words.

 

“I know,” she says, feeling a little cocky.

 

“Do you, uh, have something today?”

  
She blinks at him. “Yeah, class,” she says, and takes the bagel from him. “I guess I’m also meeting someone afterwards,” she says, because she technically _promised_ Perfuma that she’d go to this new vegan bakery with her. She fixes him with a look. He’s fidgeting. The thought suddenly occurs to her she’s done something wrong and misread the whole situation. “Why?”

 

“I just – I thought–”

 

She looks at him questioningly, cautiously.

 

“Nevermind,” he says, and hands over her boba.

 

 

 

 

He doesn’t text to check that she made it there in time.

 

 

 

 

“I don’t know, Bow,” she ends up complaining, because in the chain of her friends, Bow always ends up with all the relationship drama. Bow has, like, the healthiest relationships, like, ever, with his friends _and_ partners. Mermista has literally no idea how he does it. “He seemed like he was–”

 

“Communication,” says Bow tiredly for the fourth time that afternoon.

 

“I’ve only known him for, what, four days?”

 

“Communication,” he says again.

 

“I don’t even know! Like, I _thought_ I looked cute today, and he got all clammy? Oh my god, maybe he saw goblin Mermista and so he knew what I was really hiding under my eyeliner. Oh my god, I’m going to die. I can’t believe the first cute boy on this campus was the one who called to get me up in the morning.”

 

Bow lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I love you, Mermista,” he says. “But you have to talk to him.”

 

“Whatever,” she says. “I don’t care that much.”

 

“Right,” says Bow, and drops his head into his arms.

 

 

 

 

Mermista suffers for five days, actually, and paces around like, all the time, and consequently forgets about her biochem test until Monday night. She’s like, actually, a dumbass, because it ends up with her pulling an all nighter, with a one-hour nap at five in the morning before she comes back to studying, and so when the singing starts, she stomps over and rips the door open.

 

She looks truly, absolutely terrible. She knows this. She doesn’t need a mirror to know this. She’s still not prepared for Sea Hawk’s surpise, then horror, and then gentle concern that makes her heart feel like someone kicked it, like, really hard. “Uh, Mermista?” he says, and he’s holding a bagel and boba and Mermista thinks, _fuck, I’ve really fucked up,_ and thinks about what Bow told her to do. “What happened to you?”

 

“Biochem happened to me,” she says. “I don’t even want to be in this class.” She holds up her notebook and lets out a long-suffering sigh.

 

Sea Hawk presses the boba gently into her hand. “You have a test today,” he guesses, and she bobs her head.

 

“I hate this class,” she says, and she’s really fucking tired, and it hits her how nice Sea Hawk is, and she really likes him, okay? Which is – fuck, she doesn’t need to be thinking about how soft his lips look and about how he’s looking at her like _that_ because she’s a garbage person who looks like actual garbage.

 

“You’re going to ace it,” he tries, infusing his tone with enthusiasm. She gives him an acerbic look. He drops the expression faster than she opened the door.

 

“I missed so many days of this class,” she says hopelessly, and he, surprisingly, takes the boba back and sets it down on the floor. “I’m literally going to fail. Oh my god. My mom is going to kill me. I’m going to–”

 

“You’re tired,” he says, and then he pulls her into a hug and Mermista _melts,_ okay, because she’s a mess and because she’s fucking exhausted and because he’s so soft and smells like sea salt and boy and she takes a deep breath in, pressed against the white cotton of his shirt and exhales.

 

“I am,” she says into his shirt.

 

“You’re going to ace it,” he says again.

 

“I’m going to pass,” she says, and though her voice is dry she knows she also sounds stupidly hopeful. She pulls back and he’s still looking art her like that and she breathes in a sharp breath and they lean forward and suddenly, it hits her – she sounds stupid. She’s _being_ stupid. “I’m – I’m sorry,” she says, and steps back, and Sea Hawk’s expression crumples a bit and she tries not think about that, either. “I don’t know what I’m doing. We barely know each other. This is so lame. I’m sorry.”

 

“Mermista–” he says, but she snatches the bagel and stuffs the bill into his shirt and dashes away before he can see the tears starting to well at her eyes, which is like, super lame.

 

She’s pretty sure she passes the test, though.

 

 

 

 

**sea hawk (9:31 AM):** WAS THE TEST OKAY

**sea hawk (9:45 AM):** I HOPE SO. YOURE GREAT

**sea hawk (9:52 AM):** SORRY I’M OVERSTEPPING

**sea hawk (9:57 AM):** I HOPE I’M NOT BOTHERING YOU

**sea hawk (10:03 AM):** MERMISTA?

 

**perfuma (10:01 AM):** i can literally see you moping. come to the bakery!!!!

 

 

 

 

Her alarm doesn’t go off on Thursday. Mermista has honestly stopped setting it. She’s not expecting, though, for someone to physically shake her. She’s expecting music, okay, about her eyes or her hair or whatever, not to open her eyes and literally jump out of her skin because Sea Hawk is standing over her.

 

And it’s not her fault that she acts on instinct, either, because her hand makes a fist and she hears the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a yelp of surprise and pain coming from Sea Hawk. “You hit me,” he says, looking down at her, and she sits up and blinks. “You – I didn’t expect–”

 

“Holy _shit,_ I’m sorry,” says Mermista, even though she’s only partially sorry. She’s _tired,_ okay? But she’s also imagining Sea Hawk leaning down to kiss her or whatever, except minus the reality of morning breath, which Mermista has in spades, and so she has to take a deep breath and shake him off of her.

 

He rubs his jaw. “You’re awake,” he says brightly, and Mermista cringes with guilt. “I hope you don’t mind I’m here. I ran into your roommate and she gave me a key?”

 

Mermista thinks about giving Perfuma a really stern lecture later. “Oh my god, I really hit you,” she says instead of voicing that, though, and runs a finger over his jaw. He gulps, and she watches his Adam’s apple bob, and then presses her thumb against the spot she hit him. “Do you think it’ll bruise?” she says, and he jumps up.

 

“I, uh, brought you some boba and a bagel,” says Sea Hawk, suddenly awkward. He holds them out in front of him like they’re contaminated. Mermista takes them gingerly. She’s literally so embarrassed – she actually _hit_ the guy she _kind of_ likes, and then she like, touched him unnecessarily, and he’s clearly uncomfortable now.

 

Sometimes, Mermista hates herself. “Thanks,” she says. “I, uh, have class now.”

 

“Right,” says Sea Hawk, and his hand goes up to his bruising jaw.

 

“Right,” says Mermista more slowly, and backs out of her own dorm room.

 

 

 

 

**mermista (9:31 AM):** i am actually, like. really sorry about your jaw

**sea hawk (9:32 AM):** IT’S FINE! DON’T WORRY

 

 

 

 

Mermista needs a place to mope about her failures, so she goes to the local boba place on campus, because, like, Mermista loves boba and the boba place is actually kind of good and _not_ lame, or whatever, and maybe because she just needs to process how stupid she is about boys in peace.

 

But the world is literally out to get her, because who’s working the register but Sea Hawk, who blinks at her when she appears. “Uh,” she says, and then, because she’s a dumbass, “I’m not stalking you.”

 

He pauses. And then, “I know.”

 

“I’m, uh, sorry. For this morning. That was lame–”

 

“You aren’t lame, Mermista,” he says, and this time she blinks at him. “You really should be sleeping, though.”

 

“I researched it,” she says. “You’re only supposed to take a short nap to stay on schedule. I mean. Whatever,” she says, and blushes, and she can’t figure out why she’s blushing, or why he’s leaning over the register to take her hands, and finally she’s saying, “can I have a honeydew boba please and thank you” and her face is like, literally burning, she’s being so – awkward, and she steps away and he looks at her confusedly.

 

“I – alright,” he says, finally.

 

She busies herself with her phone as he shuffles around, making her boba, pretending like she’s not watching him out of the corner of her eye. “Solomon,” she says, after a pause, when he places her boba in front of her. She’s eyeing his nametag. “Your name is Solomon.” She remembers, now, their first conversation: _Is Sea Hawk even your real name?_

 

“Uh, yes,” he says, and Mermista laughs.

 

“Your name is _Solomon._ I thought it would be, like, horrifying, like, I don’t know, Eugene.”

 

“That’s actually my first name. Solomon’s my middle name.”

 

“Fuck,” she says eloquently, “I’m so sorry, that was lame of me, I didn’t realize that–”

 

She stops because he’s bowled over, laughing, and he’s waving his hand. “I’m joking,” he says, “I’m joking. My first name is Solomon.”

 

“You’re horrible,” she says.

 

He laughs again, moves closer to her. She catches the pin between her fingers and rolls it under her index finger and thumb, watching the way his expression turns from pleased to nervous. “Maybe,” he says, voice a whisper, “that’s just your way of telling me you like me,” and Mermista’s heart lurches.

 

“Maybe,” she says, struggling to keep her voice completely neutral. “What’re you going to do about it?”

 

There’s a pause. “I’m constantly setting things on fire, accidentally,” he tells her instead. Her heart is literally beating so loudly she’s pretty sure he can hear it. They’re close enough she can see the glint in his dark brown eyes. “I’m terrible with dates. I’m awkward at parties. Not very good with social cues. _Impossible_ to get rid of.”

 

He looks at her carefully, and she looks right back. “I’m, like, bad at expressing affection. I’m constantly annoyed. I’m bad in the mornings,” she counters, and a smile plays over his face. “What’re you going to do about it?”

 

“Kiss you, maybe,” he says, and pulls her up to meet him. “If that’s okay.”

 

She pauses. “I don’t know anything about you. You don’t know anything about _me.”_

 

He rolls his eyes. “You really let some random person wake you up without finding out anything about them,” he says, but as she opens her mouth to tell him to shut up, he’s starting to tick off things, “I’m Mexican. Jewish. Studying engineering ‘cause I want to build submarines. Junior. Youngest of three. I like the color blue. Uh,” he pauses, looks at her for cues, and comes up empty. “I answer random ads in random common rooms to wake up cute girls so that they can get an education.”

 

“Oh my god, shut up,” she says, but she’s smiling. He prods her side. “Okay, whatever, I’m desi, I’m the oldest of two, I’m a sophomore, marine biology.”

 

He laughs and pulls her in a little closer. She swears his eyes are twinkling. She’s pretty sure that’s not supposed to be possible, but his eyes are actually twinkling. “Now can I kiss you?” he says, pulling her out of her thoughts, and she rolls her eyes, meets him halfway.

**Author's Note:**

> to iz, as always, whom i love v much and who sat thru an Entire Adventure looking for a title w me. come scream abt seamista or like, boba, of which there is a copious amount in this fic (im sorry im from california i cant help it)..im @figbian on tumblr, or u can just comment (& validate me)


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